Perfect
by ObsidianBunny
Summary: A songfic using Pink's song F'in perfect, uncensored lyrics.


It has been a very long time since I have written. Enjoy. I own nothing except the plot; song and Harry Potter go to their respective owners.

_Made a wrong turn_

_Once or twice_

_Dug my way out_

_Blood and fire_

Why didn't they see how hard this was? Why can't they? Everyday, every pointed glare only dug this deeper and more painful into his heart. It wasn't his fault! He thought they were going to kill Him. Wasn't he in enough misery already? Enough guilt? It…wasn't his fault…right?

_Bad decisions_

_That's all right_

_Welcome to my silly life_

_Mistreated misplaced misunderstood_

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, even Luna had left and abandoned him. Left him to rot in his prison of self-loathing and torture. Every night was another vision, another life, and another death. He could feel the dark magic flooding their bodies and his with its sinful agony. It didn't stay that way though…

_Miss "no way it's all good"_

_It didn't slow me down_

_Mistaken_

_Always second guessing_

_Underestimated_

_Look I'm still around..._

Maybe if he had a friend this wouldn't have happened. Maybe if people didn't ignore him when he walked into a room, he wouldn't have had to MAKE them see him. If they wouldn't give their respect and attention, he would rip it from them.

_Pretty pretty please_

_Don't you ever ever feel_

_Like your less than_

_Fucking perfect_

_Pretty pretty please_

_If you ever ever feel_

_Like your nothing_

_You're fuckin' perfect to me_

Just once, he just wanted to hear it one time, those whispered words. It was only natural that he would run to the one person who said it, whose whispers were dark and pleasurable. The one's whose phantom hands caressed and touched him in ways so intimate it must have been illegal. Done things to his body that left him melted and shaking in ecstasy.

_You're so mean_

_When you talk_

_About yourself_

_You are wrong_

_Change the voices_

_In your head_

_Make them like you_

Whispers, not the good ones, plagued him as he stalked the halls, darting into his ears like droplets of rain. Except these raindrops burned and stung like basilisk venom, he would know all about that wouldn't he? Oh that made him think of the leader of this all. Whose name was spat like the foulest of poison from his sneering lips and disdainful tongue.

_Instead_

_So complicated_

_Look how big you'll make it_

_Filled with so much hatred _

_Such a tired game_

He was a pawn for both of them, a simple piece to win this bloody war. One manipulated with lies, secrets, and twinkling visages of kindness, so bright it made on gag. The other, dark and twisted he stood, a true king. Arrogant, handsome, and charming he courted his enemy's piece, promising lavishes of riches and affection for eternity. A pawn to be sacrificed? Or a queen to be cherished and protected?

_It's enough_

_I've done all I can think of_

_Chased down all my demons_

_See you do the same_

He was done; tired of this utter bullshit he had to deal with. Tired of having to fall down over and over again for them. Of having to destroy his very innocence and soul for their hypercritic views of life and freedom. Bust most of all…he was tired of being in control, of ALWAYS having to be the stand up guy, the Atlas of their world. He decided.

_Pretty pretty please_

_Don't you ever ever feel_

_Like your less than_

_Fuckin' perfect_

_Pretty pretty please_

_If you ever ever feel_

_Like your nothing_

Their eyes trailed him as he swept by their prone forms. It had been so easy, so simple. The walls, they heard, the LISTENED to him. His lonely crying nights, they were there. So he whispered, told of change of side, politics, and life. The walls they listened. And so did the doors.

_You're fuckin' perfect to me_

_The world stares while I swallow the fear_

_The only thing I should be drinking is an ice-cold beer_

_So cool in lying and I tried tried_

_But we try too hard it's a waste of my time_

_Done looking for the critics cuz they're everywhere_

_They don't like my genes they don't get my hair_

_Stringe ourselves and we do it all the time_

_Why do we do that?_

_Why do I do that?_

_Why do I do that?_

Disgust, anger, fear, hope, and pain. Such desperate, powerful emotions. The man, who had hope, was eternal in fortitude. The woman who held disgust in one fist held anger in the other. Fear begets pain, but also begets anger and determination if left to breed. He knew their emotions wouldn't breed. For how can they grow when one is missing a head?

_Ooh pretty pretty pretty_

_Pretty pretty please don't you ever ever feel_

_Like you're less then fuckin' perfect_

_Pretty pretty please if you ever ever feel_

_Like you're nothing you're fuckin' perfect to me_

_You're perfect_

_You're perfect_

_Pretty pretty please don't you ever ever feel like you're less then fucking perfect_

_Pretty pretty please if you ever ever feel like you're nothing you're fucking perfect to me_

It was a long walk to the dais upon which his beloved sat, perched like the king he was. Stepping up, he heard the prisoners draw breath, begging him in silence to fight. Like a snake, he slid to the pale king of Darkness and Shadow. Dragging his fingers down the man's cheek, he let himself be caught and kissed so utterly that he melted. Talented tongue brought him close to release already, before it was ripped away and hips place in the man's lap. Smiling, he turned to the old man bound in front of the dais. "I wasn't perfect enough for you. I am for him. Avada Kedavra." A rush of green, and then cackles filled the air, pleased and sinister. Harry Potter was perfect to Lord Voldemort.


End file.
